The Los Angeles BB Murder Case Rewrite
by VeeandreaHart
Summary: Kalika Marvil, a former FBI agent, and Naomi Misora, an FBI agent who is currently suspended, are recruited by L to solve the Wara Ningyo Murder case. Kalika, distraught at being pulled back into this life, begrudgingly accepts, knowing it'll be an interesting case. But just how interesting will it get when the quirky Ryuzaki enters the picture? T for language and the like.


**I know, I know! I have a lot of stories pending, but I'm really in a BB mood! I've read a lot of BB oneshots, but they never incorporated the original story line or how he acted in the story! So, I had to do this.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Death Note, would L have died?**

"_No, wait! Don't shoot!" a man shouted, rushing towards a woman who was short in stature, making her appear to be a lot younger than she really was, blocking her from harm's way._

_A shot rang out, and the girl watched in horror as the man in front of him shook with the force of the bullet piercing his body. He fell to the ground at the girl's feet._

I shot up in bed, covered in a light coating of sweat, panting. "Oh god," I muttered, placing a hand over my heart, trying to calm its erratic beating. "It's just a dream…just a dream…"

I looked over to the digital clock on my bedside. _1:57 pm August 13__th_, it read, its bright red digits, along with the sun glaring into my window, burned my eyes.

"Shit, ever since I quit, I've lost all normalcy in my sleeping patterns…"

After a few minutes of trying to calm myself down, I lied back down hesitantly, my body wanting to sleep, but my mind fearful of the nightmare's return.

Closing my eyes, I tried to lull myself into sleep, but something made me snap my eyes back open, and I looked around, noticing something was out of the ordinary.

"My laptop's on?" I asked no one in particular as I climbed out of bed, making my way over to it, waking it up. "I never leave you up…"

I quickly unlocked my computer, going through my open browsers, shaking my head because I knew I exed everything out. "My email?" I asked, clicking the browser, and almost immediately noticed an unread email from my brother, Adam.

I sighed, plopping down into the chair to read the email. "Kalika Marvil, I apologize for contacting you like this," I read the email out loud, puzzled over the wording. _Adam's never this formal_, I thought suspicious. "I would like to request your help for solving a certain case, along with the help of one, Naomi Misora, who you may know."

_Of course I know Naomi_, I thought, letting out a laugh. _She's my best friend! This can't be Adam…_

"If you are willing to assist me and Miss Misora, please access the third block of the third section of the Funny Dish server on August 14th at nine am. The line will be open for exactly five minutes (please do break through the firewall on your own). L."

I read over the message once again before it dawned on me. _L._ The L. The single greatest detective of the century. He's asking for _my_ help on a case? Well, mine and Naomi's.

"I wonder how Naomi is…?" I whispered, trying to think of the last time I've seen her. "Since I quit the FBI, right?"

I shook my head, reading the rest of the message. "PS: in order to contact you, I took the liberty of borrowing your brother's address. This was the easiest and safest way to contact you. Whether you agree to help me or not, I will need you to destroy this computer twenty four hours after you've read this email for obvious reasons."

I sat there for a moment, staring at the screen and playing with my tongue piercing. "Destroy my computer…" I sighed. "Whatever, I guess it's a good opportunity to get my detective back on!"

I stood up, stretching, muttering about how it was too early for these kinds of surprises before grabbing my iHome and iPod and taking them into the bathroom to take a shower.

"How have you been, Naomi?" I asked my reflection before hopping into the shower, only to jump because it was so hot. "Too~ hot…no, now it's too cold…ah~ just right~" I grinned.

*Fast Forward: August 14th: 8:55 a.m.*

I turned on my computer, mentally noting that exactly five hours and two minutes left to live, and followed L's instructions, which took me less than two minutes to do, smirking at how easily I completed that task. "Nothing's changed," I noted, vaguely remembering my time as an FBI agent.

"Kalika Marvil," a synthetic voice came from my speakers as a calligraphy-styled L on a white backdrop appeared on my screen. "This is L."

"I figured," I said, rolling my eyes before typing a response.

This is Kalika Marvil, I typed.

"Kalika Marvil, are you familiar with the Los Angeles murder case pending right now?" L asked, getting down to business.

I jerked back, looking back towards my door. If you're referring to the triple homicide, then yes, I have been following it, I replied.

"Good, a third victim was found yesterday, and I believe there will be more. As you know the public is calling it the Wara Ningyo Murders."

Okay, and…?

"And I would like you to help in the investigation. You, along with Miss Misora, will be my eyes, ears, hands. An extension of me, practically."

I mulled it over, going over pros and cons, drumming my fingers against table.

"Miss Marvil?" L asked in that same synthetic voice. "We're running out of time. We have exactly forty-nine seconds."

Yes, of course. I'll help, I typed quickly.

L proceeded to tell me how to contact him in the future, and that he will send the files needed to my door step. "We have less than twenty seconds so don't forget to trash your computer."

And then the screen went blank. I blinked, staring at the screen before I sighed and stood up, grabbing a cup of coffee. I sipped it, wincing at the bitter taste.

Placing some sugar cubes into it, I said, "And here I thought I left that life behind me…"

"The files should be here tomorrow according to L," I mulled over the thought, swishing the coffee in my mouth. "And then later that day, I'm to meet Naomi at the scene of the first crime."

I placed my cup down on the counter, going to my bedroom and grabbing the first notepad that came into my reach, jotting down that information before flipping it closed.

I let out a laugh. "I bet I'm the only detective who actually takes manual notes anymore," I said, slipping the notepad and pen into my waist pack.

I stood in the middle of the room, staring at each wall, knowing I would never get away from this life style. My walls were covered in newspaper clippings, following numerous crimes around the world. My three full sized bookshelves were filled with mystery novels that were all only half read because I had figured out the culprit before I got to the end.

"I should pick up a new hobby," I told myself. "A paranormal investigator, maybe?" I snorted, shaking my head.

My phone rang from the other room, and I quickly made my way over, since I hate keeping people waiting. I picked it up on the third ring. "Hello?" I answered, leaning against my kitchen counter.

"Evans, where are you?" my boss demanded through the other line, sounding angry.

"I know, my draft's supposed to be done by tomorrow," I told him.

"What's up with you, Evans?" he asked, his tone softening. "Usually you have drafts in weeks before the due date."

"I know~" I sighed. "To tell you the truth, I already finished it, but I hated it and kept writing new stories. I have four done, so could you use those for my upcoming due dates?"

"Sure, but why?"

"I'm going to take some time off," I told him. "Something came up."

"Okay," he replied. "Just drop them off by the end of the work day. How long do you need off?"

"I don't know yet, but I'll let you know when I can come back though," I offered.

"See you later today," he said, hanging up right after.

"Yeah, goodbye to you too," I grinned, hanging up too. "Now where did I put those drafts?"

*An Hour Later*

I tripped over a pile of junk on my way out of the room, catching myself before I hit the ground. Gripping the drafts in my hand, I made my way out of my small apartment.

"Hey, heading somewhere, Vee?" my neighbor, Greg, asked as I made my way down the hall.

"Mhmm," I hummed in response, holding up the drafts. "Turning these in! How about you?"

"Heading off to work," he replied, falling into step beside me.

"How are those animals you take care of?" I asked, sneaking glances over at him.

"They're fine," he shrugged.

Greg works as a vet in the animal hospital a few blocks over from the apartment building that we live in. I met him the first day I moved in, which was three and a quarter years ago, while I was still an agent. I had given him an alias to protect not only my own safety, but his too.

He, along with every other tenant in this building, knows me as Veeandrea, a freelance writer, going through life in a daze. Of course I felt some remorse lying to Greg and the others that became my friends, but as a detective, I couldn't be too careful.

"Ah~ you're so lucky!" I exclaimed, nudging his shoulder. "Your office is walking distance from home."

"Well, taxi or bus is always an option," he replied, grimacing.

"Yes, but either way I'd have to talk to someone," I sighed, waving over a nearby taxi. As I stepped in, I turned back to Greg. "By the way, I have a lot of work to take care of, so I'll be pulling some all-nighters. In other words, don't get worried if you don't see me for a while."

He nodded. "Sure thing," he grinned, waving as he continued down the sidewalk.

I closed the door, bucking my seatbelt. "Where to?" the driver asked, puffing on a cigar. He was an older man, in his late forties or early fifties, with a thinning hair line and thick mustache.

"Nagashima Publishers please," I replied, staring out the open window, trying to ignore the putrid smell of cigar smoke and the countless others who have sat in this same spot.

"Sure thing, little lady," he grinned, speaking with a semi-unnoticeable lisp. "How has your day been so far?"

I turned to stare at him blankly before groaning and looking back out the window. I lulled my head to the side to look at him once again. "Good, I guess," I said, probably looking like I was in pain.

"Well then…" he trailed off. "Are you a writer or something?"

"You know participating in conversation while driving is equally distracting as texting while driving and takes forty percent of the driver's thought process to drive, making it significantly more dangerous than if the driver wasn't talking," I said, changing the subject.

"Okay…" he rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the road.

After about twenty five minutes, he pulled up to the building, parking in the front. "Can you wait here for about fifteen to twenty minutes?" I asked.

"You need a ride back too?" he asked, staring at me.

"Yes," I replied. "And then I'll pay you when I get back home, so keep the meter running."

"Sure thing," he replied, waving me off.

I hurried into the building, checking the map of the building. "Upstairs~" I sang, going up the stairs instead of taking the elevator.

Four flights of stairs later, I emerged into the waiting area of my office complex. I approached the secretary's desk, smiling. "Hey~" I greeted her, waving.

She stared at me. "McLean!" she exclaimed, standing up to wrap me in a bone crushing hug. "Long time no see!"

"Yeah," I agreed. "Can you phone in Jimmy and tell him I'm here?" I asked.

"Of course, just wait over there," she said, pointing a perfectly manicured finger to the seating area.

I walked over, noticing three other people sitting. There was Jamie Ford, who was probably here to extend the deadline for her manuscript. There was Daniel Thompson who was a mystery writer, one of my personal favorites, by the way. And there was Nanao Hishagri, who wrote historical fiction.

I don't know any of them personally; I just observed their habits and made conclusions of their personalities by the way they acted.

I sat down so that I would have a perfect view of both the door into the office, the secretary's desk, and several doors leading to the head publishers' offices.

Of course I gave them a different alias. Here I'm McLean Evans, also a writer but with a more domineering personality.

I notice Jimmy, who was my boss of course, peep his head out of his office, immediately noticing me. He waved me over. "Evans, over here," he called.

I nodded, standing up with the drafts in my hand, making my way over to him. "Hey, Jimmy, let's make this fast," I told him, walking by him into the office. "The meter's running."

He laughed. "Well then, just hand me the drafts, I'll read through the first couple of pages, read the rest later and call you if there's anything wrong," he said, taking a seat behind his desk. "You can sit, you know?"

"I will, when I get home," I told him.

He began reading through the first couple pages of my first horror novel. "I like how you set up the plot with the eerie commentary," he noted, placing the manuscript down.

He quickly picked the next one up. "I like the title," he said, while reading. "It sets up something depressing. Something pessimistic, but with a little bit of hope."

"Okay…" I trailed off, tapping my foot impatiently.

He placed it down, staring at me. "Yes?" I asked, looking up at him.

"It's a story about a depressed young girl and her problems with her family, from her therapist's point of view?" he asked curiously.

"Yes, that's correct," I replied.

"Very unique. I like it," he repeated, picking up the next one.

*Twenty Terribly Long Minutes Later*

"Well, everything seems okay so far," Jimmy nodded. "I'll finish reading them later and call you about anything I have questions on."

"Okay, I'll see you later," I told him, exiting the room. "Bye!"

"See you later, McLean," the secretary said cheerily.

"Bye bye," I replied, before making my way back outside, happily noting that the taxi was still there. "Hey~" I greeted, getting back into the disgustingly smelly car.

"Back to the apartment complex?" he asked, starting the engine.

"Affirmative," I agreed, leaning back into the seat, closing my eyes, listening to the wind as it whipped through the windows, throwing my hair all over the place. "What has the world planned for me?" I whispered, turning to look out the window once again.

"Here we are," the man said, turning off the car. "Your total is one fifty—even."

I sighed, pulling out my wallet and counting out the money before handing it to him. I jumped out of the car, breathing in the fresh scent.

Making my way back to my apartment, I fished for my keys. As soon as I found them, I also found myself at my door. "Well hello there," I greeted it, unlocking it at the same time.

The first thing I did when I stepped foot into my apartment was I locked the door, and then I checked my home phone for any messages. I had six missed calls and one voicemail.

All the calls were from the same number. "Naomi," I whispered, grinning, getting ready to listen to the message.

"Hey, Kika, it's been a long time," she started awkwardly. "Um I don't know if you already know, but we've been asked by _someone_ to help with a case. We're supposed to meet up tomorrow, and I really look forward to working with you again. So I'll, uh, see you tomorrow then."

"Wow, it doesn't sound like you've changed, Naomi," I noted, smirking. "It will be interesting to work with you again indeed."

**There you have it, chapter number one! Leave a review if you deem my story worthy.**

**Anyways, loves and hugs, my minions,**

**Yours psychotically,**

**Vee **


End file.
